First off, Happy New Year and congratulations on surviving all that 2022 threw at us. Despite a soggy spring, long dry summer, and a killer freeze in December, I consider the year a success. I made considerable progress in my new garden, planting a ton of new plants and editing out many that either croaked, were planted in the wrong place, or just plain misbehaved. The garden will never be finished of course, simply because it is a kinetic composition that changes all the time as things grow and go through their life cycles.
As much as I love the excitement of spring, the exuberance of summer, and the rich warm colors of fall, it is the winter season that causes me to become introspective and meditative. The bright colors of summer have faded, even the vibrant fall foliage has long since faded and fallen to the ground. But what is left is just as inspiring - a rich mix of coniferous evergreens interspersed with dusky brown panicles of past Pee Gee hydrangea blooms, light tan stands of Maiden grasses, glorious seed heads of sedum ‘Autumn Joy’, Heleniums and Rudbeckia, and of course golden highlights from ‘Sundance’ Mexican Orange, ‘Color Guard’ yucca, and Golden Mops cypress. One can never have too much yellow foliage in the garden.
Scattered throughout the garden are small drifts of Black Mondo Grass, which contrast nicely with the low-growing felty leaves of Lamb’s Ears. I planted a variety called ‘Primrose Heron’, which, in the spring will put out new growth with a primrose yellow hue that eventually fades to silver. Even the Russian Sage, long since out of bloom and with barely a leaf left, reveals its upright silvery stems in great prominence.
I watched this Fall, with great fascination, the gradual metamorphosis of several clumps of Siberian Iris ‘Caesar’s Brother’ as they shape-shifted from bolt-upright deep green blades all through the summer to slightly nodding bright yellow and finally totally recumbent tan ones in the winter. If I had obsessively cut everything down at the first sight of change, I would have completely missed this little drama, and what a shame that would have been. This is the very reason I always hold off on cleaning up the garden until late January, or until I see the first signs of my bulbs emerging.
Not only is a garden still “full of structure” more interesting to look at, it is also a veritable wonderland for our feathered friends. It is such a delight to watch my birds scamper under and over all the still-standing dormant perennials, deciduous shrubs, and evergreens as they look for seeds and play hide-and-seek. If only I could be there with them dashing and darting amongst what must feel like giant forests of vegetation for these little guys. Looking out my slider with a cup of coffee in my hand, these aeronautical acrobats provide countless hours of entertainment in these otherwise dark and dull days of winter.
I find a winter garden to be quietly serene and the perfect place to go to escape the chaos of everyday life. The subdued colors are calming and the mostly absence of flowers allows me to focus on the more intricate details of a specific plant. Winter gardens are primarily about textures and structure. The peeling bark of a Ninebark, or the patchy bark of a Stewartia are both delights this time of year that are an often-overlooked feature during the growing season. My 'Terese Bugnet' rugosa rose with its spicey double pink blooms in spring, transforms its bright red thornless current-season’s growth into a winter focal point in the otherwise neglected northeast corner of the garden. Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the yard are two upright English Yews, that during the year get lost in the cacophony of perennials, but now stand out like sentinels guarding the entrance to the upper garden from marauders.
In our mild maritime climate, there are of course many winter-blooming plants like Hellebores and Winter Daphne and Oregon Grape that will keep our floral cravings satisfied until spring arrives, but for me, taking time to truly appreciate the foliar actors is what makes a winter garden so interesting and alluring. Now that the holidays have passed and we have a bit of time before we have to get back to serious gardening chores, take a minute to explore some of the more subtle features of your garden. Allow yourself to be bathed in wonderment at the seemingly infinite variations of plant life and all of their intricacies. Breathe in the quiet solitude of your garden and allow it to renew your spirit. Spring will be here before we know it!
